Hello, I Love You
by Authoress-in-training
Summary: Rachel Berry misses Jesse St. James. More than she will ever admit.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I've been a huge Glee fan since the show started, but I never had any urge to write fanfiction for it until Jesse joined the show. Although I was Team Finn at first, I must admit I absolutely _love_ Rachel/Jesse. (I _hate_ the ending the writers on the show gave him - they should've at least gotten a little closure after the egging incident. I hope Lea Michele's right and he's coming back eventually.)**

**This story is a future-fic, although the first couple of chapters are more present-day. This one is insanely long, and covers the events that happened in "Journey", with a few added bits that I think should've been there. Hope you like it!**

**

* * *

**

Chapter One

"Hello?"

_ "Meet me out in the parking lot."_

_ She wasn't quite sure why she even picked up the phone in the first place, after what Vocal Adrenaline did. But even though he left New Directions without a word to rejoin their rival team, callously ended their relationship in front of both choirs, and intimidated them all into thinking they had no chance at Regionals with "Another One Bites the Dust" (could Vocal Adrenaline have _been_ more obvious with their song choice?), some part of Rachel still wanted to believe that Jesse wasn't just a jerk and a really good actor. That the guy she'd fallen for (and fallen _hard_) still existed._

_ So she went to the parking lot, not thinking that this could be anything but an apology, or at least, an explanation._

_ Jesse was still in his blue and black outfit from "Another One Bites the Dust". He smiled when he saw her heading towards him, and that little smile was enough to make Rachel – who normally loathed all physical activity except for dancing, which didn't really count – start running towards him. She could almost feel his arms around her, pulling her against his body for a crushing hug that would somehow make everything okay…_

_ Something hard hit her in the back, and splattered against her sweater. Rachel heard a crack, then another one, as something cold and slimy trickled down her arm. With a shock, she realized it was a raw egg – and that all twenty-six members of Vocal Adrenaline were coming out from behind the parked cars, pelting her with more. They had surprisingly good aim, she noted, as she closed her eyes to try and block out what was happening to her. Every time another egg made contact with her body, she winced._

_ "I hear you're a vegan, Berry. The souls of those poor egg fetuses are all on your conscience now." Rachel had never had anything against Andrea Cohen, the gorgeous female lead of Vocal Adrenaline, but now she _loathed_ her. All around her, the rest of Vocal Adrenaline laughed. "Do it, Jesse."_

_ Rachel noticed that Jesse was also holding an egg in his right hand. He stared down at it intently._

_ "Are you with us or not?" Andrea challenged, noticing Jesse's hesitation._

_ Jesse crossed the remaining space between them until he was standing right in front of her. "Do it," Rachel said, daring him to actually go through with it in her mind. "Break it like you broke my heart."_

_ "I loved you." He broke the egg on her forehead, and it dripped down her face, cold and slimy._

_ A sob threatened to escape Rachel's throat, but she forced the tears not to fall. She would not give Vocal Adrenaline the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Instead, she held Jesse's gaze, as the rest of his team got into their shiny cars and drove off._

_ Rachel waited to see if he'd say something, now that his friends were gone, but Jesse said nothing. She watched as he too got into a black Range Rover and left the McKinley High parking lot._

_ Only then did Rachel let the tears fall, hard and fast. Not caring about her already ruined outfit, she dropped to her knees on the egg-covered asphalt, the hot tears stinging her cheeks. Burying her face in her hands, she cried and cried until she didn't think she could cry any more. She fooled herself when she discovered there were plenty more tears, saved up for so long, and for so many reasons._

Damn you, Jesse St. James_, she thought._ I trusted you with my heart – and _this_ is how you repay me.

_When the rest of New Directions find out about this, Rachel knew they won't just take it lying down. But even the thought of getting revenge on Vocal Adrenaline doesn't appease Rachel. All she could think about was Jesse's "I loved you."_

I loved you too, Jesse. And look where that got me.

_Rachel cried._

_

* * *

_

Rachel lies about her dreams – er, nightmares.

They are about the infamous "egging" incident, but not the way she's told her dads or New Directions. Angry mother hens do attack her, but that's not all that happens.

Every night without fail, when Rachel closes her eyes, she sees Jesse standing in front of her, egg in hand. Andrea Cohen eggs him on (no pun intended), telling him to do it. Every night, she sees him smash the egg on her forehead, saying "I loved you."

She'll never tell anyone, but this is worse than the mother hens.

The days tick down to Regionals. Even with their new Journey medley, Rachel's not sure they can beat Vocal Adrenaline. She _knows_ she's not ready to see Jesse again.

Worse, she still misses him. Even after all the terrible, awful things he's done to her, Rachel still misses him. She misses walking to class with him, their fingers intertwined; movie nights at her house, curled up on the couch in the darkness, watching their favorite musicals and singing along; afternoons spent rehearsing in the auditorium, their voices soaring and twisting together, sounding like they've been singing together their whole lives; falling asleep in his arms, the sound of his heartbeat matching hers, feeling safe and warm and protected.

Rachel Berry misses Jesse St. James. More than she will ever admit.

And the thought of seeing him again at Regionals scares her half to death.

* * *

Regionals.

Mr. Schuester gives them all a pep talk before they go on. As Rachel and Finn separate from the rest of the group to get into their positions for the first song, Rachel feels confident. They've worked their butts off on these songs – there's no way they aren't ready. New Directions is going to _win_ this thing.

(She hasn't seen Jesse yet.)

Finn walks up to her, even though they're supposed to enter from separate doors. "Break a leg," she tells him, smiling proudly.

"I love you," Finn blurts.

The beaming smile quickly drops from her face, replaced by a look of confusion. _Did Finn really just say "I love you"?_ she thinks. _Why did he choose _now_ of all times to say it?_

(She tries not to think about the last time she heard those words; it'll only throw her concentration.)

Luckily, the voice-over chooses that minute to announce New Directions. "Ladies and gentlemen, our second competitors, winners of the Central Ohio Sectionals, McKinley High's New Directions!"

The piano intro for "Faithfully" starts. Finn looks at her and smiles. She smiles back, because it's Finn and she'll always have a place in her heart for him.

Then Finn opens his door and steps out into the audience, and he's singing. And before she knows it, it's her cue, and she's out there, singing too. And it feels wonderful, and she doesn't know what on Earth she was so afraid of.

* * *

Shelby tells Vocal Adrenaline to stretch and do some vocal warm-ups while they wait to go on – their piece is long, and pretty much nonstop action. One Jesse St. James in particular should be heeding her advice, since almost their entire six-minute Queen number rests on his shoulders.

But New Directions is performing now, and he'll be damned if he's going to miss the chance to hear Rachel sing again. So he fakes a bathroom break and sneaks into the back of the auditorium, remaining hidden in the shadows.

Rachel sounds as amazing as ever. The duet for "Faithfully" is the perfect choice for her range, and she's hitting all the notes like she was born to sing them. Her partner, he can't help but notice, seems a little shakier on his part, not quite matching all the harmonies the way they should be. If _he_ was singing the song with Rachel, Jesse thinks, it would be perfect.

(He didn't want to hurt her. Seeing her broken face after he smashed the egg on her forehead is something that will haunt him forever, or at least until he can somehow find a way to make it up to her.)

She's flawless on their mash-up of "Anyway You Want It" and "Lovin', Touchin', Squeezin'", though his blood boils when he sees her dancing with Finn Hudson. Watching them together makes Jesse want to scream. _He's_ the only one allowed to touch Rachel like that.

(She probably hates him now for all he's done to her – and rightfully so – but he's still fiercely protective of the girl he will always think of as "his".)

"Don't Stop Believin'" is the only song where Finn actually sounds like her vocal equal, something that makes Jesse very happy. (They always sounded perfect together when they sang.) Unsurprisingly, New Directions gets a standing ovation, with thunderous applause. (Vocal Adrenaline will get more, though.)

As the applause continues, Rachel grins and wraps her arms around Finn's torso. He returns the hug, pulling her tiny body against him and hugging her tightly.

Shelby will be wondering what's taking him so long, so Jesse decides to head back.

(That image of Rachel in Finn's arms is burned into his brain, and he knows that it will take a miracle to erase how happy she looks, in the arms of a guy that's not him.)

* * *

"That was awesome!" Finn exclaims, as New Directions heads backstage to their dressing room area. His statement only voices the general mood of the club, which is exuberant and hopeful.

"We've got second place in the bag," Tina agrees, her face alive with the joy of performance.

"Screw that, we are gonna _win_ this!" Rachel declares, following her friend down the stairs. The other guys spill down behind them, all cheering excitedly.

Quinn lags behind, clutching her swollen stomach. An older woman in a bright yellow skirt suit and pearls stops to talk to her. Rachel thinks this must be her mom, and smiles. She decides to let them talk, instead of dragging Quinn over to celebrate with the rest of the group.

Then Quinn's mom is telling Mr. Schuester that Quinn's water just broke, and they need to get her to a hospital _now_. And everyone's panicking, running after poor Quinn, who's starting to scream in pain from the contractions.

In the midst of all this chaos, Rachel has a tiny, selfish desire to stay at Regionals and watch Vocal Adrenaline – watch Jesse. No one will miss her, right? She's not even that close with Quinn.

That's what she keeps telling herself, as she stands in the back of the auditorium, trying to stay hidden, and waits for the announcer to call out Vocal Adrenaline.

* * *

"_I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy._"

Vocal Adrenaline's costumes are ridiculous, Rachel decides. Why on Earth are the girls wearing those God-awful pink and black _showgirl_ dresses? And the pink shirts on the boys – with _suspenders_? Still, they can get away with their over-the-top costume choices – their singing is that good.

_"Mama, just killed a man. Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger now he's dead."_

Well technically, it's _Jesse_'s singing that's so fantastic. The rest of Vocal Adrenaline seems to be just like backup singers to him – something that surprises Rachel, because Shelby didn't seem like the type to arrange an entire number (at Regionals, nonetheless) around one person. Still, she's not complaining. Jesse always sounds amazing.

The entire number switches from soft piano and low-key motion to upbeat tempo and crazy dancing at the drop of a hat. Their dance moves are incredible – anyone can see that. The crowd's _really_ getting into it, waving glow sticks like at a rock concert. She hates to admit it, but even after their amazing performance, Rachel's not sure if New Directions can really win anymore.

(Watching Jesse dance with those Vocal Adrenaline girls tugs on something in Rachel's heart. She'll never admit it, but she wishes it was her he was dancing with like that.)

"_Nothing really matters, anyone can see. Nothing really matters, nothing really matters, to me."_

There's a moment, towards the end of the song, where Jesse looks out into the audience, and for a second, their eyes meet. In that second, all the pain and anger and hurt from his betrayal comes rushing back full force, overwhelming her.

Rachel slips out before the applause starts.

_ "Any way the wind blows…"_

* * *

"Congratulations."

Ms. Corcoran looks up from her coffee. "Thanks, Rachel."

"But we beat you today." Rachel closes the door behind her and steps further into Vocal Adrenaline's dressing room. (She can't help but notice that it's a lot nicer than New Directions'.) "Jesse's a good singer, but you and I both know he doesn't have much heart." (Her statement has a double meaning, but if Ms. Corcoran catches it, she doesn't say anything.) "Vocal Adrenaline's best days are behind it. So I have a proposition for you. Come teach at McKinley."

"Excuse me?"

"You and Mr. Schuester could be co-directors. We'd be _unstoppable_." She moves forward some more, until she's standing nearly face to face with her mom. "There's so much you can teach me… so much _only_ you can teach me."

Shelby sighs. "Oh Rachel, I can't do this anymore. I'm tired of coaching Glee club; I want a _life_. It took meeting you to realize all the stuff that I missed out on. I need some balance, you know? I need a house, and a garden, and a dog… a family." She pauses, meeting Rachel's eyes. "I missed out on my chance with you, and it kills me. And I can't let that happen again."

Slowly, letting the reality of the situation sink in, Rachel nods, then turns to leave. Behind her, Shelby sighs and stares at the ground.

"Where's the rest of your team?" she asks, as Rachel's hand pushes down on the door handle.

"They're uh, they're at the hospital. Quinn had her baby."

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine. It was… it was a beautiful baby girl." With that, she opens the door and slips out, starting back towards New Directions' dressing room.

(She'd always sort of known the answer would be no.)

* * *

Jesse St. James doesn't _do _nervous. He's as cool as a cucumber, waiting with the rest of Vocal Adrenaline backstage as the judges vote. But eventually, he needs a drink of water – that Queen number, with all of his solos, was absolutely draining. There are bottles of water in Vocal Adrenaline's dressing room, so that's where he heads.

He does not expect to bump into Rachel Berry, coming out of their dressing room.

"What are _you _doing here?" Admittedly, out of all the things he could have said, that was not the best choice.

"I… I was talking to my mom," she says almost defiantly, lifting her chin as if daring him to say something nasty. Her brown eyes are bright, but Jesse can see the hurt and sadness hiding behind her façade. "And you? Shouldn't you be with your team?"

"I was thirsty. Shouldn't _you_ be with your team?" He's surprised that they're having a semi-civilized conversation – in almost all of the scenarios he'd imagined for when they met again at Regionals, she yelled and threw something at his head.

"They're at the hospital. Quinn had her baby."

_The rest of her team's at the hospital, but she stayed at Regionals. Why?_ he wonders.

(He's selfish enough to wish that it was for him, but after what he's done to her, he knows that can't be it.)

"Rach, I'm…"

"Don't call me that," she snaps, her eyes fierce with anger. "You forfeited that right when you smashed an egg on my forehead."

"Rachel, I'm _sorry_."

"Oh yeah? Well sorry doesn't cut it after what you did." She pushes her way past him impatiently, and he watches as she disappears down the hall and out of sight.

Only when he's returned to where the rest of Vocal Adrenaline are waiting does he realize he never got that water, but by then he doesn't even want it anymore.

(If he's being totally honest, the water was just a convenient excuse to find her.)

* * *

The next time Rachel sees Jesse again is not too long after bumping into him outside Vocal Adrenaline's dressing room. All three choirs are lined up on the stage, awaiting the judges' results. (Aural Intensity is in between New Directions and Vocal Adrenaline, thankfully.)

The crowd breaks into loud, whistling applause as the panel of judges – led by Coach Sylvester, who holds two envelopes – files onto the stage. "Thank you all for coming," she says into the mike. "As you all know, Glee club is such an important… and I honestly can't even finish that sentence. So let's just get to it." Rachel sees Mr. Schuester roll his eyes. That is just _so_ Coach Sylvester. "The 2010 Midwest Regional Runners-Up… from Fort Wayne, Indiana, the not-at-all-stupidly-named Aural Intensity."

Aural Intensity, in their white dresses and suits, start screaming and jumping up and down, hugging each other. Rachel claps politely, while her heart beats fifty miles a minute in anticipation. Eventually, holding the second place trophy over their heads in celebration, Aural Intensity makes their way backstage. New Directions and Vocal Adrenaline move closer, filling the vacated gap, but still leaving about a foot of space between the two groups.

Coach Sylvester holds the mike up to her mouth, then hesitates for a moment. "And now, your 2010 Regional Show Choir champions…"

Everyone's holding their breath, squeezing each other's hands tightly. Rachel takes a minute to pray. _Please, God. If there ever was a day for a miracle, it's today_.

"…Vocal Adrenaline!"

Rachel stands, shell-shocked, as Vocal Adrenaline erupts into cheers – hugging each other, high-fiving, screaming and celebrating. She watches as Jesse pumps his fist in the air triumphantly, then pulls Ms. Corcoran into a crushing hug, as she tries to swallow the tears that threaten to fall at any second. Josh Groban hands him the enormous first place trophy, and the rest of Vocal Adrenaline lift him up onto their shoulders in celebration.

Meanwhile, Rod Remington crosses the stage and hands Mr. Schuester the much smaller, third place trophy with the ribbon pinned to it. Mr. Schue shakes his hand politely, saying nothing. In contrast to Vocal Adrenaline's excited celebration next to them, the general mood of New Directions is quiet and sober.

For the second time in about a week, Rachel knows what it feels like when your heart is breaking.

(This hurts, it really does. But Rachel wouldn't care quite as much about losing if she hadn't lost Jesse as well. The pain of both is what pushes her over the edge.)

* * *

There's a little party after the results are announced, in a room adjacent to the auditorium. Most of New Directions just leaves after the results, either to go see Quinn in the hospital or just to go home. Rachel, however, has some time to kill before her dads come pick her up, so she decides to spend it at the party. It's better than sitting outside like a loser, she figures.

As she surveys the room, Vocal Adrenaline's bright pink costumes are thankfully absent from the small sea of dressed-up teenagers milling around, talking and eating. She gets a plate of treats and a soda, and sits down at a table in the corner. Normally, Rachel's not one for bingeing on junk when something bad happens, but there's nothing else left at this point.

She's peeling the wrapper off her third chocolate cupcake when someone slides into the seat across from her. Someone in a very familiar bright pink shirt and suspenders.

"Go away, Jesse." Even after all of the day's events, she can't bring herself to yell at him, though she should.

"Rachel…"

Since she can't yell at him, she settles for sarcasm. "What more do you want from me? You already took my heart, my mom, and my Regionals trophy. Do you want my car, too?"

"You don't have a car," he replies softly, pulling his chair closer to hers.

"So then what? Did you come over to gloat about how Vocal Adrenaline beat us?"

"Why do you keep thinking I'm going to hurt you?"

"Because every time I trust you, I end up getting hurt."

He sighs, and reaches up to brush a lock of hair out of her face. The slight contact when his fingertips meet her skin sends her body into sensory overload, and she closes her eyes, because it feels _so_ _good_ when he touches her…

And then she remembers that she's supposed to hate him now, and she pushes his hand away. "Don't touch me!" she snaps, finding the strength to yell for once.

She has to get out of here. That much is clear. Being semi-alone in his presence for too long is dangerous. Abruptly pushing back her chair, she storms out of the party, pushing past celebrating members of other choirs, her heels clicking like gunshots on the floor.

Rachel runs and runs until she thinks she's put enough distance between her and Jesse. This journey takes her out to the front of the building, by the parking lot, which is half-full with parked cars. Sinking down onto a bench on the sidewalk, Rachel shivers slightly, wishing she was back in the warm building instead of outside, where it's starting to get dark and cold. But she'd rather freeze than go back in there and face Jesse.

"Rachel!" She flinches when she hears his voice, praying that her ears are deceiving her. But no, as she turns around she sees Jesse standing behind her, a desperate look on his face.

"Go. Away."

"No." He sits down next to her, and she immediately moves down to the opposite end of the bench. "Rachel, I know I've hurt you. And I know you'd be a fool to trust me again. But I love you, Rachel Berry, and I always will. You can't imagine how much I regret the things I've done."

"Then why did you do them in the first place?" she counters.

Jesse sighs, rubbing his forehead. "After I met you in the music store, Shelby asked me to help you find her. I agreed, because I thought it would be a good acting exercise. I never expected to fall in love with you. When I went back to Carmel, Andrea and the others forced me to say all those awful things to you, to prove my loyalty to Vocal Adrenaline. They were the ones who decided to egg you."

"You could've backed out. You didn't have to smash the egg on my forehead. But you did."

"But I didn't want to! I knew the rest of the team would never trust me if I backed out. Rachel, believe me when I say that seeing your face after I broke the egg just about killed me."

"Why _should_ I believe you? All you've done since I met you is lie to my face."

"I lied about Shelby. But all the rest of our relationship was real, Rachel, I promise. That part wasn't a lie."

"Still… I can't trust you. And I don't trust myself when I'm around you." She stands up, trying to leave, but he grabs her wrist and pulls her to him.

"Rachel, don't do this to me."

Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel sees her dads' dark blue BMW turn into the parking lot. "I'm sorry, Jesse, but you've hurt me too many times. To let you do it again… well, I'd be an absolute moron."

"But I won't hurt you! I promise! Rachel, I love you!"

"That's what you said the first time." She forces herself to forget about the 'I love you' part. _He probably doesn't mean it anyway._

(She won't look at his face, because she's afraid she'll see that she was wrong.)

"Goodbye, Jesse St. James." It takes every ounce of her strength to say that in the cool tone it deserves, and to not look back at him as she walks to her dads' car and opens the backseat door.

"How was your competition, sweetie?" Hiram Berry inquires.

"Could've been better," Rachel offers weakly, closing her eyes and resting her head against the headrest.

"Did you see Jesse?" Leroy Berry asks.

Rachel bites her bottom lip, debating whether to spill or not. "Well, obviously I saw him perform with the rest of Vocal Adrenaline, but besides that… no."

Some day, when the anger and pain from his betrayal are healed-over scars and not fresh open wounds, she'll be able to tell the truth. But until then, she'll lie.

(If you lie for long enough, the lies become a shield, a mask, until you can't tell lies from truth, and then you start to believe them.)

* * *

**Author's Note: So what did you think?**

**The next chapter will be something of an overview, covering Rachel's last two years of high school and Jesse's first two years of college. Then we'll get to the real meat of the plot.**

**Reviews, of course, are my lifeblood. I'm dying to know if I got them in-character, which was a big part of why I slaved over this for so long (and wound up making it so long), so please tell me. And, as always, the more reviews I get, the more motivation I have to update faster.**

**- Authoress**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Wow, I can't believe the amount of reviews I got! Thank you all for reviewing. :)**

**This is the shortest time between updates that I've ever had. So you guys are lucky, if that's any sign for the rest of the story.**

**I've got more to tell you, but I'll say it at the end. Enjoy the story!**

**

* * *

**

Chapter Two

Rachel thinks she's never been happier when Mr. Schuester announces that Glee Club gets another year. The knowledge that this amazing, wonderful part of her life isn't coming to an end fuels her courage to confront Finn about what happened before their performance at Regionals.

"Finn, wait up," she calls, as they all spill out of the choir room after Mr. Schuester's amazing performance of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow."

Nine months ago, he wouldn't have waited for her. But all of New Directions are different people now than they were nine months ago.

"What is it, Rachel?"

"We need to talk." She pulls him into an abandoned classroom and shuts the door.

"What's wrong?"

She takes a deep breath. "Before we did "Faithfully" at Regionals… you said you loved me."

(She lies to herself and pretends that was the last time she heard those words.)

"I do love you, Rachel. It took me a while to realize it, but I have for a long time. If it weren't for you, I probably would've quit Glee a long time ago, which would suck, because I really like it now. Even when I was with Quinn, you were always there for me when I needed a friend. It broke my heart to see you with Jesse, after I was stupid enough to let you go. And now that he's out of the picture… do you think there's any way you can give me another chance?"

Finn would be a good boyfriend, Rachel realizes. He's always been nice to her, even when his friends were throwing slushies in her face (which, to be honest, they still do sometimes). There's no drama between them – no secrets, no lies, no betrayal. Being with Finn would be easy.

"Yes," she hears herself saying.

Finn's face lights up in a huge smile. Without another word, he leans down and kisses her.

Kissing Finn is nice. It doesn't make fireworks explode behind her eyes or send tingles down her spine, but it's nice. She feels safe in his arms, like nothing can hurt her.

Rachel doesn't want another relationship like the one she had with Jesse. She's willing to settle for nice, if it means she won't be alone.

* * *

Without their star male lead and demanding coach, Vocal Adrenaline slips. Meanwhile, New Directions grows.

They take Regionals Rachel's junior year, and go all the way to Nationals, where they place second. By then, Figgins reluctantly accepts that Glee Club is here to stay for good at McKinley High, and stops threatening to pull the club. (This makes Coach Sylvester incredibly angry, but no one really cares.)

Rachel refuses to think of senior year as a "victory lap" (the way someone once referred to it as), and pushes the club even further. With her intense focus, they win first place at Nationals, giving Glee Club a big shiny trophy of their own to display, cementing in everyone's minds that they are winners. By now, the slushie-facials have stopped completely, something for which Rachel is intensely grateful. (Washing ice and flavored high-fructose corn syrup out of her hair and clothes every day would be even more humiliating as a senior.)

Even with everything else on her plate (leading New Directions, spending time with her friends, dating Finn), Rachel manages to get the highest GPA in the class. She spends weeks agonizing over her valedictorian's speech, driving both of her dads, Quinn, Kurt, Mercedes, Tina, and Finn insane having to listen to every re-write. (Of course, the only ones who say anything about it are Kurt and Mercedes.)

She steps a little outside her comfort zone with her graduation dress, choosing a soft olive green cotton halter number with thin straps and a slightly ruffled hem that ended several inches above the knee. Normally, she wouldn't have even tried on something so simple, but Kurt (who'd acted as stylist during the "New Directions' ladies grad dress shopping trip") had insisted she try it on, and pronounced her "smoking hot", an assessment the rest of the girls agreed on. Of course, it's hidden under the blue cap and gown (with gold valedictorian sash!), but she'll look fabulous for the picture taking afterwards, and the myriad graduation parties planned (parties which she has an invitation to, thanks to Finn).

Finn is still her boyfriend. They've had a couple of fights, and a memorable breakup period the previous winter (where Rachel tried to get over him with _Puck_, of all people), but eventually they wound up back together again. Finn's the picture of a perfect boyfriend: bringing her flowers after a fight, planning romantic dinners for special occasions, helping her study for tests (even though she usually winds up helping _him_ instead), even sitting through Barbra Streisand movie marathons with her. He's never pushed her to go further than she wants to, unlike previous boyfriends of hers. On the surface, it seems as if Rachel has everything she could have ever wanted.

(But as hard as she tries to forget about him, her dreams are still haunted by the memory of a curly-haired boy dressed in black, with a voice like magic and kisses that set her body on fire.)

* * *

"Can you believe we just graduated?" Mercedes gushes.

"I know, right? It still doesn't feel _real_," Quinn says.

"Just wait until tomorrow morning, when we're all nursing enormous hangovers from the graduation parties. _Then_ it'll start to feel real," Puck laughs.

As improbable as it seems, the New Directions group are actually close-knit friends outside of the choir room, after all these years. Everyone else is milling around the auditorium (even spilling out the doors), taking pictures and talking with friends and family, but New Directions are huddled together, talking and laughing, all secretly not wanting the moment to end.

"Has everyone signed my yearbook?" Kurt brandishes a colorful array of Sharpies and the aforementioned white-covered yearbook. "I want to make sure I get _everyone_'s numbers so we can stay in touch – and I can invite you all to the fabulous Hollywood parties I'm sure to get invited to."

Rachel laughs. Kurt is heading out to Los Angeles for college, to the Art Institute of California in Hollywood to study fashion design. She has no doubt that one day, Kurt Hummel designs will be sold in department stores across the world.

"Ooh, I haven't signed it yet!" Tina exclaims, grabbing the yearbook and a bright blue Sharpie. Tina received a scholarship to the Academy of Art in San Francisco, and Artie – devoted boyfriend that he is – is following her out there.

"Me neither," Brittany says, her head resting casually on Santana's shoulder, their pinkies linked as always. Brittany and Santana finally came out as a couple at the beginning of senior year, and after the requisite girl-on-girl-cheerleader-fantasy thing from the guys, everyone was pretty much okay with it. (It didn't hurt that the New Directions group had suspected they were a couple since sophomore year.) Brittany was accepted into Julliard on a dance scholarship, but turned it down to go to Ohio State University with Santana.

Rachel surveys the group around her, marveling at how incredibly different they all are outside of the choir room. There's Puck and Quinn, who finally got their act together and started dating _for real_ this spring. The two of them are going to University of Chicago together – Puck on a football scholarship, Quinn to study medicine. Mike Chang also got accepted to Julliard for dance, and unlike Brittany, he's going there. Matt also has a football scholarship, except to Arizona State. Mercedes is going to Hollywood with Kurt, and she'll be studying at UCLA.

Rachel is heading to New York, to NYU on a voice scholarship. She'd always known she'd end up in New York at some point in her life, and college seemed like an excellent place to start. Finn also applied, but he didn't get in. This put a little strain on their relationship, but Rachel is nothing if not an optimist. She's willing to try and make it work between them after high school, even with him at Ohio State and her at NYU. And for the most part, he seems willing too.

"What are you thinking about, Rach?" Finn's voice breaks Rachel from her thoughts, and she impulsively reaches up and gives him a quick kiss.

"Nothing, really."

"I told you, I don't want to drink tonight!" Quinn insists. From the sounds of things, a Puck/Quinn argument is brewing.

"But baby, I promised Jack we'd be at his party," Puck says.

"_You_ can go, but I'm not setting foot inside Jack Nicholson's house," Quinn says firmly. "I've heard too many stories about how he spikes all the drinks, and I'm just not going there."

"Please, baby? For me?" Puck's flashing his famous "puppy dog" face, which looks less silly on him than it would if he still had his Mohawk. (Thank God he stopped doing it after he was forced to shave it off sophomore year.)

Quinn sighs. "Alright, fine, but if you get me pregnant again, I swear to God I _will_ kill you." She's laughing as she says this, though, and there's a smile in her eyes, which makes Rachel happy that she's happy. After what poor Quinn had to go through sophomore year, she deserves some happiness. (The fact that it's with Puck is weird, but at least she's happy. And to his credit, he _has_ straightened up his act in the past two years.)

"Are you going to Jack's, Finn?" Puck asks. "Or are you and Rachel gonna have your own _private_ party?" He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and Rachel can't help but giggle, even though that's the furthest thing from her mind on graduation day when she and her boyfriend are about to be separated by six hundred miles.

"No, we're going to Jack's," Finn says, blushing slightly. Even though they've been dating for over two years, Rachel still hasn't been ready to take _that_ step. To his credit, Finn's been a gentleman, never rushing her or forcing her.

"Everybody, get in close! I want a group picture!" Mercedes announces, and they all squish in as Mrs. Jones fiddles with her daughter's camera. "Say cheese!"

Mr. Schuester walks over to the group as Mrs. Jones hands Mercedes back her camera, arm in arm with Ms. Pillsbury. After two rocky years of screwing up their chances with each other and dating other people, the choir director and the guidance counselor finally started dating for real and for good.

"I can't say how proud I am of all of you," Mr. Schuester says, beaming. "This is like the end of an era."

"Oh, Mr. Schue, don't get all sappy on us," Kurt laughs. "That's my job."

Everyone laughs, even Mr. Schuester.

"And besides, we won at Nationals. There's no way Figgins can cancel the club now," Rachel reminds him.

"That's true, but it's just not going to be the same. I'm going to miss each and every single one of you so much. You'd all better come back and visit."  
"Of course we will, Mr. Schue," Finn says, smiling, one arm wrapped tightly around Rachel's waist.

They take some more pictures with Mr. Schuester, and talk a little more, promising to meet up again that night at Jack's party (for those who are going), and setting dates to hang out during the summer before they all split up to go to college. Eventually, the auditorium starts to empty out, and Rachel and Finn make their way back towards the crush of people leaving.

"I'll see you tonight," Finn promises, leaning down to kiss her on the lips.

"See you tonight," she says, smiling, still holding his hand as he starts to leave until the distance between them is too great and their fingers slip apart.

She watches him go, before turning her sharp eyes onto the crowd of families searching for their graduates. In addition to her dads, Shelby and little two-year-old Beth are waiting for her somewhere, so they can all go out to dinner at her favorite Italian place before she meets Finn to go to Jack's party.

Rachel scans the crowd several times, but no luck. She sighs, preparing to have to go push her way through all the people to find them, when her eyes land on a very familiar figure dressed in all black.

Their eyes meet. Rachel's heart stops.

_What is _he_ doing here?_

* * *

Jesse St. James fits in perfectly at UCLA. California is _so_ much more suited for someone like him than Ohio. So that begs the question – what is he doing back in Ohio for his sophomore summer break?

Goodness knows he's not here to visit family – he fought almost constantly with his parents when he still lived at home, and now that he's out of the house he hasn't heard a peep from them in months besides the obligatory holiday cards. Then there's his other family – Vocal Adrenaline – but other than Shelby, there was no one there he ever really felt a connection with. That's just the way Vocal Adrenaline was – a group of extremely talented stars-to-be who used each other's star power to enhance their own. Those kind of people don't exactly make good friends (or heaven forbid, good relationships).

So then what was the draw?

Rachel Berry.

She probably still hated him for what happened two years ago, but he still missed her. The girls at UCLA were all talented and gorgeous, but none of them were Rachel Berry. A long time ago, they'd promised to be at each other's graduations, and after all this time, he needed an excuse to see her.

Not wanting to call attention to himself, he slips into a chair at the back just minutes before the graduation ceremony starts. He smiles to himself when he sees her approaching the podium wearing the gold valedictorian's sash, and give her speech. (He always knew she'd be valedictorian.)

Graduation speeches are usually utterly forgettable – he certainly doesn't remember any of the one given at his own graduation – but not Rachel's. Maybe he's just biased (because it's _Rachel Berry_, the girl he's pined after for two years), but something about the words and the emotion with which she says them makes Jesse commit every word to memory. He can tell she really believes in what she's saying.

(A part of him wonders just how much of it is personal.)

Then a few teachers give speeches, and then the diplomas are passed out.

"Rachel Barbra Berry." _That is such a show name._

The rest of the ceremony is pointless, as far as Jesse is concerned. He laughs to himself when "Finn Jeremiah Hudson" is called (_Jeremiah? What kind of a middle name is Jeremiah?_). Finally, their uptight Indian principal announces that they have officially graduated, and everyone cheers.

Jesse searches for her in the crowd after the ceremony ends, but after a while he spots New Directions clustered together near the stage, talking and laughing. He considers going over there to talk to her, but then realizes that he's probably still _persona non grata_ with most of New Directions. So instead he waits by the door at the back, knowing she'll have to come his way eventually.

And then, as she's searching the crowd (most likely for her dads), her eyes land on him. Knowing she's watching him, he deliberately flashes a smile in her direction, watching the tiny, subtle changes in her body language that means he's gotten under her skin.

(Rachel wore her heart on her sleeve. Every single emotion. She was so easy to read, so easy to use… so easy to break.)

She marches over to him.

* * *

"What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you again too, Rachel." His eyes rake over her body. Rachel stiffens, suddenly thankful that Kurt had forced her into the green halter dress, and for the metallic gold gladiator sandals and big gold hoop earrings he'd paired with it. Her hair had been curled into loose, tousled waves, and she wore just a touch of makeup. "You look amazing."

Despite the fact that she's supposed to hate him, Rachel's cheeks flush bright red. Finn never complimented her on her looks. (He had to be _prompted_ to say something about her dress for Senior Prom.)

She quickly regains her composure, however, and remembers who she's talking to. "You have no right to be here."

"We promised we'd go to each other's graduations. And Jesse St. James always keeps his promises – even if you didn't."

Rachel bristles. "I thought that promise was null and void when you smashed an _egg_ on my forehead." Jesse winces, and Rachel smiles inwardly. "Besides, what's this BS about keeping promises? You promised not to hurt me, but obviously it was easy to break that one."

"Do you really think this is the appropriate time to get into that again, Rachel?" She's suddenly aware of just how close he is to her body, and instinctively takes a step backwards.

"As a matter of fact, no." She forces her emotional shield back up, trying not to show how much he's gotten to her already. "So if you'll excuse me, my dads and Shelby are waiting for me."

"I liked your speech. Very… _inspiring_." She desperately wants to get away from him, but there's no sign of her dads or Shelby and Beth, and he's blocking the door.

"Thank you," she says briskly.

"I saw you at Nationals. Well, I saw a video that Shelby sent me, but still. You were incredible, as always. The only problem I had with your performance was your duet partner." Jesse leans closer to her. "Why are you still wasting your time with Finn Hudson? He'll never be able to keep up with you out in the real world."

"Oh, and I suppose someone like _you_ is a better match for me." She takes a few steps backwards, needing some space between them. "Finn's a good guy. He's sweet, he's well-meaning, he's the definition of chivalry… and _he_ isn't _using_ me."

"Where are you going to college?" Rachel's confused by the sudden topic change, but talking about Finn with Jesse makes her uneasy.

"NYU. I got a scholarship to the Tisch School of the Arts." A smile slides across her face as she says this, like it does every time she says where she's going to college.

"And Finn? Is he coming with you?"

The smile quickly disappears. "That's none of your business."

"He isn't, is he?" Jesse smirks. "Are you seriously going to try to keep up a long distance relationship, with you in New York and him in Ohio?"

"Finn and I are committed to each other. We realize that such a distance will put a strain on our relationship, but our deep love and respect for each other will transcend our geographical positions."

"Stop with the bullshit, Rachel."

Rachel flinches. "Why do you care anyway, Jesse? You lost your chance with me a long time ago."

"Because you have the potential to be a star, Rachel. I've known that since I first heard you sing at Sectionals two years ago. But if you have _anything_ still tying you to Ohio, it'll just get in the way. When you leave for NYU this summer, you have to be prepared to not look back."

"Like you did? Except – oh wait! You're here today. Which means you have something tying you to Ohio too."

"But there's a difference. Finn's _never_ going to make it out of Ohio." He steps closer to her. "You already have."

Rachel's cheeks feel hot again. "F-Finn isn't the only thing still tying me to Ohio. There's my dads, and Shelby, and little Beth…" She knows she's rambling, throwing out excuses, and not really making much sense. (Being around Jesse seemed to do that to her.)

Jesse smirks. "Say what you need to make yourself believe it, Rach. But you can't fool your heart – or me." For once, she doesn't comment on his inappropriate use of her nickname.

"I-I should go," she stutters, barely able to form a coherent sentence. _This_ is precisely why she ran away from him the last time they talked, at Regionals. Too much time spent in Jesse St. James's presence has an ill effect on her mind.

Jesse stares at her with barely contained amusement, as if he knows just how much of an effect he has on her. "I miss you."

"Goodbye, Jesse St. James." She manages to regain her composure long enough to walk away with at least some of her dignity intact, like a scene from a movie. Thankfully, she spots her dads and Shelby waiting for her not too far away, so the perfect movie moment isn't spoiled by her having to squint and search for them through the crowd.

(Later, as they're sitting down for dinner, she remembers why those last words had such a déjà vu feeling. She hopes that isn't an omen for the future.)

* * *

For the second time, Jesse watches the girl who changed his life walk away from him. This time, he wonders if their goodbye really is forever.

(He should know better. For two people with such a powerful attraction, no goodbye is ever forever.)

* * *

**Author's Note: So how was it? Did I get everyone in-character-ish? One of my big worries for this chapter was getting the rest of New Directions and Mr. Schuester in character. Please, tell me how I did, even if you think I didn't get them right. They all will be coming back at some point, and I want to know for the future.**

**Next chapter starts off the real plotline. It will be a future-fic, focusing mostly on Rachel and Jesse, with some OCs because I need them.**

**Also, about my title choice - I'm sure at least somebody has wondered why I chose "Hello, I Love You" as the title, since it doesn't seem to have anything to do with the plot and very little to do with St. Berry. All will be revealed in time - and trust me when I say that it has very much to do with both.**

**Considering how on a roll I am with this story, you can expect an update soon. It probably won't be as quick as this one, though, because I'm entering a contest (first prize is a $2000 shopping spree!) and the deadline is in 2 weeks.**

**Later,**

**Authoress**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: This chapter took way longer than I thought, and I'm not entirely satisfied with it. But I didn't want to spend any more time obsessing over it. It was bound to be a hard one to write anyways. The rest will be much better.**

**Also: this story has 50 Story Alerts, for only 2 chapters. You like me! You really really like me! :) :) :)  
**

**More to say at the end, but for now, just enjoy Chapter Three!**

**

* * *

**

Chapter Three

Since she was a little girl, Rachel has always known that Broadway was her destiny. But being a star in Lima, Ohio is nothing compared to trying to stand out in the competitive world of New York theater. There were girls just as talented as she was, some even more so, who'd all grown up with the same mindset, and now they were all fighting for the same few parts.

College was easy. Rachel loved her four years at NYU. It was refreshing to be around people like her – people who didn't think she was crazy for getting up at six in the morning to practice scales and who could keep up with her in discussions about the best musicals. She'll always love New Directions fiercely, but none of them are as passionate as she is about music. And that's okay – but it was nice how she fit in at NYU. For once, she wasn't Rachel Berry, the girl crazily obsessed with fame and singing – she was just Rachel Berry, fellow star in the making.

After college was when things got a little… harder. When other classmates were trying out for bit parts on Broadway, Rachel was taking vocal clinics and nailing solos in showcases. Her dads had always warned her about not letting Broadway interfere with college, so Rachel decided the easiest way to not let that happen was to simply wait until graduation. Besides, as someone once told her, her being on Broadway is an inevitability. Scoring a scholarship to NYU was lucky for a girl from Ohio.

What Rachel hadn't counted on was the harshness of the real world outside the bubble of school. Nonexistent Broadway roles don't pay the bills, so she'd been forced to do some waitressing to pay for rent and food. Auditions were many, but callbacks were far and few between, and never for a lead role.

She'd never had any delusions that it would be _easy_, but, well, she didn't think it would be this hard.

As luck would have it, she has another audition today. This one is for a show unlike anything ever performed on Broadway before. She's heard plenty about it on the audition circuit – the script originally started as a pilot for a TV series, in the vein of _High School Musical_, but then the writer turned it into a play. Miraculously – considering the music is all cover songs, nothing original – somehow it attracted enough attention to make its way onto Broadway. It would be a huge deal for the actors that get the leads – they'd be originating a role, in the most talked about new play of the decade.

The audition process is the same as always – a lot of waiting, and then nervousness when they call your name. Say your piece, sing your song, give your monologue, then leave. She's been to so many of these lately that they all start to blur together after a while.

Later, as she's walking home (no money for a taxi) from Josie's Café, the restaurant where she works, after a three-hour afternoon shift, her cell phone rings. The number is unfamiliar.

"Ms. Rachel Berry?"

"Yes?" she says hopefully.

"My name is Rebecca Martin, I'm one of the casting agents for _Hello, I Love You_. I'm sorry this is such short notice, but we'd like you to come back for a second audition today. Can you be here in an hour?"

Her heart leaps. "Of course. I'll be there right away."

"Thank you."

Money be damned, Rachel hails a cab. _I finally got a callback oh my God this so exciting I'm going to be on Broadway oh my God oh my God oh my God!_

_

* * *

_

"Thank you for coming, Ms. Berry," says a blond woman in a pale blue button down shirt and black pencil skirt. Rachel assumes this is Rebecca Martin, the casting agent who called her. "Again, I'm very sorry for the short notice, but our male lead just flew back into town, which means he's available for the second audition, and we really just need to get this part cast already so we can start rehearsals. Also I had a good feeling about you from your first audition. If you two mesh together, and my superiors like you… well, I'm not one for counting chickens before they hatch, but expect good things."

Rachel smiles. "That's great. So who is this male lead? Anyone I would know from the audition circuit? Or maybe a Broadway veteran?"

"Oh no, this is his first show. He's made quite a name for himself on the West Coast in show business, though. In fact, the person who wrote the script, back when it was a television show pilot, practically insisted he play the lead. He's very talented, actually, which made it easy to cast him. But finding a girl to play _against _him?" Rebecca makes a face. "Nightmare. He's a very talented performer, but it's like he overshadows all the other girls we've auditioned for the part. You, though, didn't seem like you could be overshadowed by anybody. Which is why I have a very good feeling about you. Anyway, you'll see all of this for yourself in a minute."

Rachel takes it as a good sign that Rebecca is telling her all of this – it bodes well for her chances of getting the part. She wonders just who this elusive male lead is.

(A tiny voice in the back of her mind says that all the pieces fit too perfectly to be coincidence. She tells it to shut up and go to hell.)

In the short waiting period, Rachel mentally prepares for the upcoming audition – she's never gotten so far as to actually audition against another member of the cast. The script Rebecca had handed her held lines for one scene – an argument between two people named Chloe and Brandon, obviously the male and female leads. She finds herself liking the character of Chloe; she could very easily imagine herself playing this part.

"Rachel? We're ready for you."

The stage seems so much _bigger_ this time around – the lights are brighter, the rows of seats stretch on for longer. A tall figure in all black – the elusive male lead, most likely – stands on the right of the stage, waiting for her. Rachel squints, the bright stage lights nearly blinding her. She can't see his face.

"Rachel, is it? It's nice to meet you." He holds out his hand to shake, stepping forward slightly, and his head blocks out the light. Suddenly, she can see again.

Icy blue eyes meet chocolate brown, and Rachel feels faint.

_You have _got_ to be kidding me._

"J-Jesse?"

"Rachel?" To his credit, he looks almost as surprised to see her again as she does to see him.

"I'm sorry, do you two know each other?" Rebecca says, and Rachel remembers where they are.

"No," she says, just as Jesse says "Yes."

Rebecca looks bemused. "Well, I suppose it doesn't matter. Are you ready?"

"Yes," she says quickly, trying not to look him in the eye. She scans the script again, thankful the audition piece is an argument and not a love scene. Having to kiss him again right now would probably have disastrous results.

"Whenever you want to start. Rachel, you have the first line."

"Don't be nervous, Rach," Jesse says, quietly enough that only she can hear. All traces of his earlier surprise are gone, replaced by his usual cocky arrogance. "It's just me, after all."

"Don't call me that," she hisses under her breath, just loud enough that he can hear. She wants to slap him, but it would be terribly unprofessional in front of Rebecca. Instead, she channels her anger into the scene. At least one good thing will come out of this – she's sure to nail the audition. Playing an extremely pissed off character is no stretch for Rachel right now.

She's so into the character, she even manages to forget that it's Jesse St. James across the stage from her, if just for a short while. Finally, though, the scene is over, and she no longer has the luxury of hiding behind a character. After delivering Chloe's last line with as much emotion as she can muster, she turns on her heel and stomps off to the side of the stage, as the scene calls for, glad for any excuse to put distance between them.

The sound of clapping breaks her from her thoughts. "Wow," Rebecca says, her eyes wide and her jaw dropped. "That was… _intense_. The amount of chemistry you two have together is startling. Are you sure you've never met before?"

"Yes," Rachel says quickly. At the same time, Jesse adds, "No."

Rebecca frowns, but doesn't say anything. "Okay, I need to hear you sing together. Jeremy, give Rachel the sheet music for Hello." She motions to a guy dressed in black sitting by a piano on the side of the stage, who gets up and hands Rachel a piece of music.

_Oh God, no. Please, no. No, no, no, no, no_.

"What's wrong, Rachel? I thought this was our song?" She hates how he can stand there, so composed – _smirking_ at her, even – while she falls to pieces inside. A part of her considers just leaving now; if she can barely get through this one audition with him, how on Earth is she supposed to get through a year-long run of the play? (Because if they sing, especially this song, there is no way she won't get the part.)

But then she remembers that this is the only audition she's had in _forever_ where she stood a chance of getting the part, and that this role would be a major breakthrough for her career. She doesn't have to _like_ her male lead to play against him; it's called _acting_. So she stands a little straighter and forces herself not to look at him, as the opening notes of the piano take her back in time to sophomore year of high school, and a chance encounter in a music store that changed her life forever.

Though it's been years since they last saw each other, and longer since they've sung together, their voices pick right back up where they left off. There's no awkward confusion as they try to get used to each other's voices; it's as seamless as it was the first time, his voice filling in the spaces that hers leaves behind and vice versa. Like magic.

"_'Cause I wonder where you are, and I wonder what you do. Are you somewhere, feeling lonely, or is someone loving you? Tell me how to win your heart, for I haven't got a clue. But let me start by saying… I love you."_

The song ends, and the spell breaks. Rachel remembers where she is and who she's with, and immediately flushes bright red and backs up several feet from the piano (much to Jesse's amusement, she notes). For a moment, it was as if she was that naïve sixteen-year-old girl who first sang that song in a music store in Lima, Ohio again, who fell in love (and fell _hard_) with a boy would only break her heart.

But she's not sixteen anymore, and she knows better than to trust him with her heart again.

"_Whoa_." Rebecca is speechless. Only then does Rachel remember that she's still there. "I had _no_ idea… just wow. That was incredible. However much chemistry you two have acting, you have triple that amount singing. If you guys could pull that off for eight shows a week…"

Rachel avoids meeting Jesse's eyes – every time she does, it chips away a little bit more of her defenses, because there's still a tiny part of her that's never gotten over him and probably never will – as she straightens herself out. "When can I expect to hear about the part?" she asks, trying to sound professional.

"Very soon," Rebecca says. "The fact that I can't just give it to you now is just a formality."

"Really?" Rachel is flattered, even though she really shouldn't be (because Rebecca's made it very clear that it's mostly because of her intense chemistry with Jesse, which is _not_ a good thing).

"Really. Have a nice day; I'm sure I'll be seeing you again very soon."

Rachel leaves the theater, much less excited than she should be. She's practically just been offered the lead role in a brand new play that's the talk of town. She should be jumping with joy, squealing and calling everybody on her contacts list to tell them the great news.

But she's not, and she knows exactly the reason why.

* * *

_I just saw Rachel Berry._

_ I just auditioned with Rachel Berry._

_ Rachel Berry is going to play my love interest._

"Jesse! Snap out of it!" Rebecca Martin snaps her fingers in front of his face, and Jesse blinks, shaking his head a couple times. His thoughts are a mess right now, and predictably, they all have to do with _her_.

"Sorry, Becca," he says, his mind still on Rachel.

"So what's the story with you and that Rachel girl? Do you know each other or not?"

He sighs. "We used to go out, back in high school, but our breakup was kind of… messy, to say the least." He winces at the memory of raw egg yolk dripping down Rachel's face.

"Must've been, if she's pretending not to know you." Rebecca sighs and runs her hands through her shoulder-length blond hair. "Look, Jesse. The two of you up on that stage… it was like magic. But I can't have discord in this theater. The show needs to go off without a hitch. Take her out for coffee after rehearsals or something, and talk to her. Apologize for whatever happened, even if it wasn't your fault. Buy her a present, maybe; I don't know. Just get her to stop hating you."

"That… might be easier said than done."

"Well, do it!" Rebecca snaps. "I'm counting on you to make things right, Jesse. The whole dynamic of the show will be off if our female lead hates her male lead."

"Why don't you just cast someone else as Chloe, then?" Jesse suggests, even though his heart hurts at the idea of letting Rachel get away again.

"Because Rachel's the only girl we've auditioned so far that you didn't drastically overpower – both in singing and acting. Plus, your chemistry is off the charts, and you sound fantastic together. No, Rachel is our Chloe, if there ever was one. So suck it up and go apologize to her, St. James." Rebecca picks up her bag. "Rehearsals will start next week. I'd suggest having some kind of a game plan for when you see her again. Because even if you don't fall in love again, you still have to do love scenes eight times a week, and I can imagine that won't be fun if she hates you."

Jesse only hears about half of Rebecca's little speech; he's thinking about Rachel, doing love scenes with Rachel, _kissing_ Rachel – how good she tastes, how soft her skin is, the way her hair always smells like apples…

"Are you even listening to me?" Rebecca rolls her eyes. "Whatever. I'll see you on Monday. _Don't blow things with Rachel_."

He wants to say that he's pretty sure he blew them a long time ago, but refrains; the only thing that'll do is get Rebecca even more mad at him.

Instead, he gets his stuff and leaves the theater, still thinking about her. The more he runs Rebecca's words over in his head, the more he realizes that she's right.

Fate has given him another chance with Rachel Berry.

He won't be stupid enough to waste it again.

* * *

**Author's Note: So? Thoughts?**

**Yes, the explanation for my title choice is finally here. I know that the probability of there actually being a play like this on Broadway _ever_ is like slim to nonexistent, but I couldn't help myself. (I don't know enough about any established musicals to do them justice, and this way I can pick all the songs - including having them sing "Hello" again, which is _so_ their song.)**

**Next chapter: more deets about their play, meeting the costars (OC's), Jesse tries to talk to Rachel again, and someone from New Directions will make a cameo. Thoughts on who? (Also, we will find out the current status of Rachel and Finn - any guesses on what it is?)**

**I'm going on vacation in a week - but I am bringing my computer - so don't expect an update super-quick. Of course, some reviews would certainly motivate me to push this to the top of my "Must Work On" list.**

**Later!**

**- Authoress**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: I know, I know, I totally suck for waiting so long to get this next chapter out. I really really _really_ tried hard to finish it before last night, as a kind of a present to you all for Happy Glee's Back! Day (not an officially holiday, but it should be in my books. More on my thoughts about the first episode later). But then my stupid teachers gave me so much homework I ran out of time. So now here it is, only about twelve hours late.**

**I'm not totally convinced I like the way this ended, but I'd already spent weeks (maybe even months) deliberating over it, and finally I just said "Alright, enough is enough." So I hope you like the end bit, but the first two bits (which I think turned out absolutely perfect) are the really important stuff.**

**Well, I've got more to tell you at the end, but right now I know you're chomping at the bit to see what happens next, so I'll get off the screen and let you read.**

**PS: Sorry if Jesse's a little OOC. I haven't seen any of the old episodes with him in a while, so I'm making do. If it really bothers you, please tell me and I'll fix it.**

**

* * *

**

Chapter Four

Rachel arrives at the Limestone Theater for rehearsals on Monday morning at nine o'clock on the nose. Too early would come off as lamely over-eager, and too late would be terribly unprofessional.

She'd obsessed over her outfit the whole weekend, driving Amanda, her roommate and best friend from NYU, crazy. Finally, she settled on dark skinny jeans tucked into high-heeled black leather boots, and an empire-waist olive green cotton sleeveless top with tiny patterned cutouts at the bottom to imitate lace under a denim jacket. No makeup, with her hair curled into loose, tousled waves; big gold hoop earrings, and a long gold chain necklace with a gold star charm that hung above her stomach. Rachel thinks the whole package says "sophisticated and professional"; Amanda agrees, if only to get her to stop throwing clothes and accessories all over their West Village apartment.

Everyone else trickles in slowly after nine o'clock, wearing everything from jeans and sneakers to miniskirts and stilettos, lugging their stuff in backpacks and messengers and totes, carrying to-go coffee cups and pastry bags that make Rachel's stomach rumble. She'd been too nervous to eat anything before she left, but now she wishes she'd brought something with her, since there's no way of knowing when they're going to get a break for lunch.

A few people say hi to Rachel, but for the most part, no one really talks to her. Everyone seems to know each other pretty well, most likely from other shows, and it's all very cliquey. She's the standout, the girl with no prior Broadway experience who just happened to land the lead. It's a good position to be in, career-wise, but it doesn't seem to bode well for her chances of making friends.

Rachel _really_ wishes she had something to eat, mostly because it would give her something to do instead of just standing there like a loser. The hands on her watch keep moving, but no one who shows up seems to be an authority figure; everyone's still clustered in groups on stage and in the audience, just talking.

(There's still no sign of Jesse, and Rachel has a brief fantasy where it turns out she imagined the whole thing, and the male lead is someone completely unknown to her.)

"Hi! You must be Rachel Berry. It's nice to meet you." Rachel looks up to see a long, slender, white hand outstretched for her to shake, fingers manicured in petal-pink nail polish, with a stack of silver bangle bracelets sliding down the wrist. The hand is attached to a tall, skinny girl with golden-blond hair in soft curls framing her face and falling down her back, pulled off her face with a black headband. Her blue eyes are lined with eyeliner and mascara, and her lips slicked with pale pink gloss. She wore a gray long-sleeved cowl-neck sweater cinched at the waist with a black belt, and a denim miniskirt over black leggings and slouchy black suede ankle boots.

"Um, it's nice to meet you too…" Rachel says, shaking her hand. The sweet, flowery scent of the girl's perfume tickles her nose.

"Oh my goodness, where are my manners? I didn't even tell you my name! I'm Lydia Alexander. I'm playing Kayla, Chloe's best friend." Lydia's smile is wide and genuine, and Rachel smiles back. She likes this bubbly blond girl instantly.

"So where are you from, Lydia?"

"I'm home-grown – grew up right here in NY. Went to Trinity for high school, then Columbia for college, and now I'm trying to get onto Broadway. And you?"

"I was born in Ohio," Rachel says. "I championed my high school's Glee Club, and we won at Nationals my senior year." She smiles just thinking about it. "Then I got a scholarship to Tisch, and got out of Ohio as fast as humanly possible."

Lydia laughs. "You must be an amazing singer. Over one hundred girls auditioned for the lead, and you got the part with no prior Broadway experience." Rachel blushes. Thankfully, Lydia doesn't seem spiteful, just a little awestruck. "I auditioned for Chloe, but they said I wasn't a strong enough singer. So I got Kayla, which is fine by me – at least it's a part." She opens a takeout container to reveal half of an omelet and some fried potatoes. "Hey, are you hungry? I've got some breakfast left."

"Does it have any meat?"

"Yeah – there's ham, cheese, peppers, and tomatoes."

"Sorry, I don't eat meat." Her stomach growls. "Do you know when we get a break for lunch?"

"Not for a long time," Lydia says. "Are you sure you don't want some? I can pick out the meat if you want."

"It's alright."

Lydia sighs. "If you say so. I'm taking you out for lunch today, then." Flipping a lock of her hair off her shoulder, she changes the subject. "So what do you think of Jesse St. James?"

Rachel's eyes widen, not prepared for that question _at all_. Struggling to regain her composure, she buys herself a little time by saying, "What do you mean?"

"He's so… what's the word? Full of himself," Lydia says, digging into her omelet with a plastic fork. "I met him at my audition, and all I can say is that I pity anyone who had to go to school with him. Can you imagine what he was like as a teenager? It's kind of scary. I mean, yeah, he's talented, but you know why it took so long to cast Chloe, right? Because nobody they auditioned could hold their own acting against him." She studies Rachel more closely. "Obviously something clicked between you two, though, or you wouldn't have gotten the part. So what do you think about him?"

Just then, the door bangs open, causing everyone to look up, thinking it might be the director or someone else important. But no, it's just Jesse.

_ Just Jesse._

"Ugh, speak of the devil," Lydia mutters under her breath. "Who does he think he is, getting here so late? He's lucky Rebecca isn't here yet, or she'd give him hell about this. There's only so much you can get away with, being the star."

Rachel only hears about half of what Lydia is saying. Cold, paralyzing fear shoots down her spine. For the millionth time since her audition, she questions her decision to take this part, knowing she'll have to be doing duets and love scenes with Jesse eight times a week for over a year.

To her horror, Jesse turns and walks over to her and Lydia. Rachel squeezes her eyes shut, her body tensing like she's ready to make a break for it any second. _Please, God, just let him go away. I really can't deal with this right now. Please._

Her prayers go unanswered. "Hello, Rachel. I brought you some breakfast." He holds out a to-go coffee cup and pastry bag. "Your favorite – soy latte with an extra shot of espresso, and a vegan blueberry muffin. I figured you'd probably be too nervous to eat this morning, and I thought I'd surprise you." Rachel takes the food cautiously, feeling Lydia's eyes burning a hole in her back with their inquisitive stare.

"Thank you," she says softly, forcing herself not to look up at him. (One look in those eyes and she was a goner for sure.)

She can tell that Jesse isn't happy that she's not looking at him, but she also knows that he won't dare call her out on it in front of Lydia. "Anyway, I was thinking that maybe we could go to lunch today and go over the script. There's this cute little café I know downtown – the menu's all vegetarian and vegan."

"That sounds… great. But I already have plans with Lydia, sorry." _Just go _away_, Jesse_, she wills him in her mind.

"Oh, it's no problem! You two should get to know each other," Lydia chirps.

"No, really, I shouldn't break my plans with Lydia," Rachel insists, squeezing Lydia's hand. To anyone else, it would look like a gesture of friendship and commitment, but the squeeze is just a little too tight to be friendly.

"Some other time then, Rach. Don't be a stranger – give me a call. We really need to catch up." The door bangs open again, and this time, thankfully, it's Rebecca, trailed by two men in dark suits. "I've gotta go talk to Becca. See you later."

The second he's out of earshot, Lydia pounces. "Okay, _what_ is up with you and St. James?"

"It's nothing," Rachel insists, taking a sip of the latte. She's slightly touched that Jesse remembers how she likes her coffee, but she'll never admit it.

" 'Your favorite – I thought I'd surprise you'? 'Don't be a stranger, Rach'? 'We really need to catch up'? Mind explaining all that?" Rachel sighs, seeing there's no way around this.

"Okay… Jesse went to high school in Ohio, just like me. We dated for part of my sophomore year, when he was a senior. Our breakup was… messy, and then he went to California and I haven't seen him since."

"That's not the whole story," Lydia says. "I want details."

"It's a long, painful story that I'd rather not talk about." Just thinking about the egging makes her wince.

"Too bad. You're telling me at lunch." Rachel rolls her eyes; she hadn't anticipated this bossy side of Lydia.

"If you _insist_," she sighs. She steals a glance across the room, where Jesse is talking with Rebecca and the two men with her.

Their eyes meet – ever so briefly, but it's still enough to send warmth throughout her whole body, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Rachel blushes and looks away, taking a big gulp from her latte and trying to hide her burning cheeks. She hates herself for giving him so much power over her that a single intense stare can scorch her from head to toe.

(Being with Jesse was like playing with fire. Sooner or later, the flames were bound to consume her, and leave her broken and him unscarred.)

* * *

Jesse couldn't concentrate on anything Rebecca's saying, which is very unlike him. All he could focus on is Rachel, talking with that blond girl across the room (what was her name – Laura? Lila? Lana?).

He wonders if she still uses that apple shampoo, the one that made her hair so soft and silky. If she still wore that candy-sweet-smelling lip gloss that made him want to lick it all off her lips and devour her. She's wearing jeans today, a change from her usual pleated skirts, but her legs still look stunning. Hell, she'd probably look hot in a trash bag. He fantasizes about walking right up to her and kissing her full on the lips in front of everyone, kissing her and kissing her until she was breathless, panting for air in his arms, eyes half-closed in pleasure, sighing his name…

"Jesse!" Rebecca snaps, somewhat angrily. He blinks rapidly, more than a little upset at being jolted out of his fantasies. "Heaven forbid, are we keeping you up?"

"N-no," he stutters, looking back at Rachel. God, this is torture – being so close to her and yet so far away.

Rebecca rolls her eyes at him. "Whatever. I hope you've made some progress with Rachel. You two are going to have to rehearse together a lot in the next few weeks. She has _a lot_ of catching up to do, and we open in just a couple months. I'm putting you in charge of making sure she gets enough practice time and has all her lines down. Capisce?"

Jesse can hardly believe his luck; he has to fight the big, stupid grin off of his face. "Of course," he says. "Whatever you say."

"Good," Rebecca says. "And Jesse?"

"Yes?"

"I've seen the way you look at her. If you want to pursue her, go right ahead, but if you break her heart and it screws with my show, you'd better sleep with one eye open. I have _no_ qualms about letting your understudy take the role for good if you fuck things up with Rachel irreparably. You don't have to be an actual couple to play Chloe and Brandon onstage – you just have to like each other enough to make love scenes look believable. Got it?"

"Got it." He gulps. Rebecca is scary enough, but knowing that she actually _will_ follow through on these threats makes it even scarier. In some ways, she reminds him of Coach Corcoran, except even more intense.

Thinking of Shelby brings him back to Rachel again, as almost everything does these days. She's still talking to the blond girl (Lydia – that was her name), but – wait, now she was… walking towards the door, the trash from her breakfast in hand.

Jesse couldn't have gotten a better opportunity if he'd planned it himself. Bidding a quick goodbye to Rebecca and the suits (his nickname for the guys that always trailed behind her, who rarely ever said anything and were most likely just there for show), he takes off towards Rachel.

"Rachel! Wait up!" he yells, running the last few yards until he was standing in front of her.

She turns around to face him, hands on her hips, looking like she'd rather be anywhere but here. "What?" she asks, sounding irritated.

Up close, he can see all the tiny, subtle ways she's changed. Her face is harder, her cheekbones more pronounced, the sharp angles of her jaw making her look less like a teenager and more like a _woman_. Her hair is longer, falling down her back in loose curls, and her dark eyes have lost their sparkle, like the last few years have jaded her. Coupled with the more mature clothing, she looks…

She looks like Shelby.

Shaking that (somewhat scary) thought out of his mind, Jesse realizes he has absolutely no clue what to say to her. "Um… how was your weekend?"

She laughs, but not that girlish giggle he remembers from high school. God, even her _laugh_ has changed – it's harder, less bubbly and genuine. How had he not noticed all of this before now?

(Oh yeah. He was too busy wondering if he was dreaming, that the girl he'd loved forever and never really gotten over had appeared right in front of him again.)

"I find it extremely hard to believe that you came all the way over here just to ask about my weekend. Especially considering the fact that you _know_ I haven't forgiven you for what happened in high school, and therefore would not want to make small talk. So what do you really want, Jesse?"

"Hey, don't be like that. You don't have to _love_ me–" Jesse mentally winces, "but do you really want to do this show eight times a week, still hating me for what happened years ago? It's your choice, of course, but considering everything…"

"What do you mean, 'considering everything'? What aren't you telling me?"

"You haven't seen the script, have you?" Thankfully, he has a copy on him, which he hands to her. "Read this. And then tell me you still want to carry a grudge for something that happened _seven years ago_ – which, by the way, I apologized for years ago as well–"

"An apology that I did not, and still do not, accept," Rachel cuts him off, lifting her left hand to shush him. With the other hand, she takes his outstretched script.

Jesse mentally curses Rachel for being so goddamn stubborn. "Come on, Rachel. It's been _seven years_!"

"Jesse, I'm not interested. Please, spare me."

He sighs. "Fine. So… are you doing anything tonight?"

Rachel drops the script and gives him a blank stare, like he's the most stupid person alive. "What part of our conversation gave you the idea that I'd want to do anything with you tonight?"

He has to fight the urge to laugh – thank God, she's still his Rachel underneath it all. For a second, he struggles to remember his reason for asking her out – besides the fact that he's still in love with her – but then, thankfully, it comes back to him.

"I've got direct orders from Rebecca to make sure you're learning all your lines and practicing the songs."

"And she put _you_ in charge of this _why_?" she asks, incredulously.

"Maybe because I'm the male lead and you're the female lead, so it makes sense for me to help you get caught up?" Two can play at this game, Jesse decides.

Rachel crosses her arms over her chest, clearly frustrated that she's lost this argument. "Fine. But tonight's not good for me."

"Well, when is?"

"How about never? I don't need a _babysitter_."

"Rachel…"

Her face softens. "Whatever."

"Is tomorrow okay?" he ventures. "We can go to my place. I've got a piano, so we can rehearse."

"Fine. Is seven o'clock okay?"

"Perfect," he says, biting his cheek to keep from smiling like an idiot. "It's a date."

Her eyes narrow at him. "Don't get ahead of yourself, St. James – this is _not_ a date."

"Chill, Rach. It's a figure of speech. I know that it's not really a date." _No matter how much I wish it were…_

She rolls her eyes. "As long as you know that. And besides, I'm dating Finn."

His blood turns to ice. Of _course_ she's still with that idiot. What she sees in him, Jesse will never know. "G-Good for you," he stammers out.

Rachel smirks, like she can see right through him, and Jesse wonders when their roles became reversed. Then she throws her trash away and walks off, the faintest scent of her perfume lingering in the air.

Jesse smiles to himself.

(Because underneath all the changes, she's still Rachel Berry. And if there's one thing Jesse knows how to do, it's make Rachel Berry fall in love with him.)

* * *

"You said _WHAT_?"

"Geez! Quinn! Calm down!" Rachel yelps into the phone.

"I can_not_ believe you said that," Quinn continues, not paying attention to what Rachel had just said. "What on Earth got into you?"

"I don't know, okay? I just… wanted a barrier," Rachel admits, slumping down into an armchair in the "living room" of her apartment. Thankfully, Amanda had to work, so she was alone.

"I'm sure it's awkward, seeing Jesse again. But for heaven's sake, Rachel, couldn't you have picked _anybody_ else? How is Jesse supposed to believe you're dating Finn when Finn's in Ohio, with his _real_ girlfriend?"

"I panicked, alright!" Rachel exclaims, feeling more than a little exasperated. She'd thought calling Quinn to vent would make her feel better, but so far it's only making her feel worse. "And I knew Jesse would back off if I said Finn. He hates Finn."

"Well, that's true." Quinn clucks her tongue through the phone. "Listen, girl, you've got to fix this – and fast. Jesse's not stupid – it won't take him long to figure out that you lied to him."

"I know, I know," Rachel sighs. "I've been thinking about it all day. But so far I've got nothing."

Quinn sighs. "Well, I'm sorry I can't help you out. You're going to have to fix this one yourself."

"It's okay." Rachel reaches for her copy of the script and starts idly thumbing through it. "Hey, you want to hear about the play? I just got a full script today."

"Sure."

"So the plot basically revolves around a love triangle. My character, Chloe, is a senior in high school, and she's at the center of this love triangle. The male lead is a character named Brandon, who's a new teacher at Chloe's school. He's really young, like just out of college, so it's not that weird with the age difference. And the other guy in the triangle is Chloe's boyfriend Nick, who's also a senior, and is the star of the football team."

"Ooh, scandalous! Your character hooks up with a teacher when she already has a boyfriend? I'm surprised – I never thought _you_'d play a character like that. So lemme guess – you end with Jesse in the end?"

"It's _Brandon_, and yeah."

"Brandon, Jesse, same diff. Who's the guy playing Nick? Is he cute?"

"His name is Connor Pierce and he's very cute. I met him briefly today, and he seems nice."

"Send me a pic. I wanna see him for myself."

"If I can get one without looking too stalker-ish, then sure I'll try. Oh, and the girl playing my best friend Kayla is so nice. Her name's Lydia. We went to lunch today. She seems really sweet. I hope she turns out okay – I really need a friend in this show. Everyone today was so cliquey. And it wasn't like I was the ugly dorky girl with bad skin, glasses, braces, and an I LOVE DISSECTING THINGS button on her Jansport backpack, but more like the plain-looking transfer student who's a novelty for the first day and then just kind of fades into the background, which is not a good thing for me to be, being the lead of the show and all–"

"Rachel." Quinn cuts her off. "I thought we agreed you'd left Babble Girl back in high school."

Rachel's cheeks flush bright red, ad she stares down at her feet, even though Quinn is hundreds of miles away and can't see her. "Sorry," she mumbles.

Out of nowhere, Quinn just starts laughing hysterically. "Quinn, what is it?"

When Quinn finally stops laughing long enough to piece together a coherent sentence, she replies, "Guess what I just realized?"

"What?"

"Replace this Nick guy with Finn, and this play is essentially the story of your sophomore year. Well, minus the whole teacher thing, but still – you and Jesse, forbidden love, another guy getting in the way…"

"Shut up!" Rachel exclaims. "I was not even thinking about that, but now that you mentioned it I know it's going to be all I can think about. Thanks a lot, Quinn."

"I'm sorry, Rach," Quinn says, the last traces of her hysteric giggling fit starting to disappear from her voice. "You really need to come up with an explanation for Jesse. You know that the longer you wait to tell him the truth, the madder he's going to be. And that's not even thinking about what might happen if he finds out from somewhere other than you."

"I know, I know." Rachel closes her eyes and falls backwards onto her bed, the phone still pressed against her ear. "Can you _please_ stop reminding me every five seconds about what I said? It's not the end of the world that I lied. Everyone lies. _You_ lied quite a bit back in the day." Quinn is silent, and Rachel winces, knowing she's hit a nerve. "Sorry. You know what I mean. It's not like I killed somebody."

"Still. I don't like the idea of you working with Jesse at all. That guy was a class-A jackass to you and now you have to pretend to be in love with him onstage every night?"

"Don't remind me." Rachel rolls her eyes. "But this is a huge deal for me – getting the lead with no prior Broadway experience? Never mind the fact that it's a new play and I'll be originating a role, which almost _never_ happens these days."

"Yeah, yeah, my best friend is going to become a Broadway legend while I'm stuck in med school." Rachel can almost _hear_ Quinn rolling her eyes. "Don't rub it in."

"Oh come on, Quinn. You're going to get through med school, and then you're going to be a kick-ass doctor, and all of this is going to be a distant memory."

Quinn sighs. "I know, I know. It's just hard to remind myself why I'm doing this when I'm spending my days sticking my finger up people's butts." Rachel giggles, remembering the first time Quinn had had to do a rectal exam and called her to complain about it for a record-breaking three-hour-long phone call.

"Well, it's not like what I'm doing is a cakewalk either," Rachel says, trying to make her best friend feel better.

"Oh please. You love it. Broadway is like Glee club multiplied by a million, and you get to be the star for real this time." Quinn pauses. "Rachel… if I tell you this you have to promise you won't breathe a word to anyone."

"What is it?"

"_Promise_ me you won't say anything."

"Okay, okay, I promise. Now what's your big news?"

"I applied to Columbia."

Rachel's jaw drops. "Oh my God. Quinn, that's _amazing_!"

"I haven't heard back from them yet – I probably won't even get in," Quinn backpedals furiously. "No one knows yet, and I plan to keep it that way unless I get in. I didn't even tell Puck."

"Shut up, Quinn. You're going to get in. Oh my God, you're going to move to New York! Oh, this is so exciting! I think there's an open apartment in our building – we could be next-door neighbors!"

"Seriously, Rachel, calm down," Quinn says, but she's laughing. "Oh, Puck just got home, I should probably go."

"Alright. Tell me the _minute_ you hear anything from Columbia. The _second_."

"I will, I will! Now stop talking about it – you're gonna make him suspicious."

"Fine. Love you."

"Love you too. Talk to you soon." The flat beep of the receiver sounds in Rachel's ear, and she presses the END CALL button. Putting the phone back on its hook, she sprawls out on the couch, closing her eyes and trying to put her finger on what's bothering her right now.

The answer comes to her almost instantly.

She never told Quinn about meeting Jesse tomorrow.

* * *

**Author's Note: I really got you there, didn't I? Like I would ever have Finn and Rachel still together - besides it being _such_ a cliche in this story plot, I couldn't stomach writing them together. (They were really cute last night, though - so what's all this about Finn saying he still loves Quinn in one of the promos? Blech. And why was there _nothing_ about Quinn and Puck? For crying out loud, they just had a baby! Well, maybe there'll be more in the Britney episode. And we finally get to meet the mysterious dentist dude!)**

**Also, on the topic of last night: how hilarious was Jacob Ben-Israel's little "glee summer documentary" thing? Especially the bit where he asks Mr. Schue how he feels about something saying he should stop rapping. It's like how Eclipse made fun of Jacob never having a shirt. (Seriously, Schue _should_ stop rapping. It's annoying.) I loved "Empire State of Mind", yes, but my favorite song (that I wish to God hadn't been interrupted by Sue Sylvester) was Rachel and Sunshine dueting on "Telephone." I swear, Charice is the only other person besides Lady Gaga herself who can do that "Eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh" thing without sounding retarded. Or maybe I'm just jealous. And last but finally not least, don't you think it's just a little bit annoying how Quinn got back on the Cheerios so quickly? (I loved the catfight between Quinn and Santana, though. More, more, more!)**

Before I forget, Lydia (do you guys like her?) looks like Bridgit Mendler, but with blue eyes. I've yet to find an appropriate actress for Rebecca, but I will look, and I'm searching for a cute guy to be Connor Pierce, the guy playing Nick (not introduced yet, but he's coming).

Chapter five will be - you got it - Rachel and Jesse's "not a date". No promises when it will be up, because I have a lot of other stories that need updating as well.

**Okay, so now that I've done my blathering on (about last night and the chapter you just read), I wanna hear what _you_ thought of chapter four. (And opinions about last night are welcome too.)**

**Love,**

**Authoress**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: It's here! The update you've all been waiting for is finally here!**

**I've got way more to say, but I know you're all dying to see what happens next, so I'll let you read and talk more later. Enjoy!**

**

* * *

**

Chapter Five

"Tell me again why you're spending so much time getting ready for this, Rach?" Amanda asks, sprawled out across Rachel's bed, which is half buried in discarded clothes. A half-empty bottle of wine sits on the tiny table by her bed – the only surface of the room not covered in clothes – and Amanda holds a long-stemmed glass full of the deep red liquid in her hands, while another one stands next to the bottle. "I thought you didn't like this guy."

"Exactly," Rachel says, taking a gulp from her wineglass. "I can't wear something too date-like, or he'll get the wrong idea, but if I wear sweats or something, he might think I want to stay the night. Plus, we're going to be working together, so I have to look nice and professional, but not sexy. _And_ I don't know how long this is going to take, so I have to factor in temperature when I leave his place, and–"

"Whoa there, girl," Amanda says, holding up one hand. "Slow down. No more wine for you, that's for sure." She takes Rachel's glass and puts it back by the bottle. "If you really don't want to give him the wrong idea, showing up half-drunk is not the way to go. Besides, you're singing; can't risk your voice."

"You're right. What was I thinking?" Rachel sighs, and pushes aside a few crumpled tops piled on her bed to make space to sit down next to Amanda. "I just… this is the first time I'll be spending a long period of time alone with him since we were a couple. Even at graduation, there were lots of other people around. I just… I don't know what to do."

Rachel feels Amanda's fingers gently stroking her hair. "It's okay to be nervous, Ray," she says. "But realistically, you have to learn how to be alone with him soon. After all, your star-making Broadway role involves pretending to be in love with him eight times a week."

"I know, I know, I know all that," Rachel insists, turning around to face Amanda. "But I don't think I'm ready."

"Well, you have to be. The sooner you can get over whatever happened between the two of you and move on so you can do this show, the better." A mischievous smile spreads across Amanda's face. "Or if that doesn't work, you could always just pretend he's gay."

Rachel bursts into laughter, and so does Amanda. "He did always wear too much hair gel," she finally gets out, which only sets the two off into more peals of laughter.

When they can finally stop laughing long enough to compose themselves, Rachel sighs and stands up, surveying the giant mess that's become her room. She clucks her tongue. "I can't believe I emptied my entire closet trying to figure out what to wear."

"Here," Amanda says, picking up a dark blue top off the top of a pile near the door. "Wear this. And–" she scoops up a pile of accessories "try these too."

"If you say so." Clothes in hand, Rachel heads for the bathroom. (Even though she and Amanda are practically like sisters, she still feels uncomfortable changing in front of… anyone, really.) Just as her hand hovers over the doorknob, she turns around. "Amanda? Thank you. For everything."

"No problem, Rachel. What are friends for?" She smiles, and reaches across the table to pour herself more wine.

As she strips off her yoga pants and tries on the outfit Amanda picked out, Rachel thinks about when they first met, four years ago during freshman orientation. Amanda was from California – nowhere near as backwoods as Ohio, but a definite culture shock to New York. Like Rachel, she had a voice scholarship to Tisch, although Amanda was more interested in going the pop star route than being on Broadway. She actually played guitar and wrote several songs on her own. And, of course, it didn't hurt that she was absolutely stunning. She actually looked a lot like Santana, so much so that Rachel did a double take when she first saw her across the quad, thinking the bitchy former cheerleader was in New York. Unlike Santana, though, she had a heart of gold, and had helped Rachel through more than a few crises during their years at NYU. After graduation, during their post-graduation party blitz through NYC's best clubs, one of them – to this day, they still couldn't agree on who it was, considering they were both several cocktails in – suggested they get an apartment together, so they could both afford the rent on their piddly savings.

Rachel smiles just thinking about it. Amanda had become her Quinn 2.0, the person she called first with good news and ran to for help whenever she was in trouble. Although now if Quinn was going to be moving to New York, she'd have them both within reach – Quinn and Quinn 2.0. The thought makes her laugh, and she realizes just how much wine she's imbibed. (Her tiny frame always made her a lightweight; almost everyone has taken a turn holding back her hair after she's downed too many shots of vodka or apple martinis).

"Come on, Rach, you're not that drunk yet. Show me, show me!" Amanda's voice breaks her train of thought, and she hastily adjusts the neckline of the top before she opens the door.

The dark-haired girl is waiting by the bathroom door, her wineglass refilled and in her hands. "Oh yeah, who's the best? That's right, it's me!" she chirps in a wine-tinged voice, flipping her hair off her shoulders and appraising Rachel proudly.

"Easy on the vino, Amanda," Rachel laughs, picking her way through the giant mess that's become her room to the full-length mirror on the other wall. "Although I do admit, this is really nice." The dark blue top is long and simple, floating just over the tops of her thighs, with a low V-neck – countered by a black camisole, at Rachel's insistence – and short sleeves. With black skinny jeans and ballet flats, the entire package is very sophisticated and stylish with a hint of preppy – classic Rachel-in-New-York style.

"Did I tell you or did I tell you? And here – the finishing touch." She drapes a necklace over Rachel's collarbone. The brunette reaches up and feels a music note pendant hanging off the slim silver chain, the note heads shaped like little hearts and covered with tiny crystals. Instantly, she freezes.

"No – I'm not wearing this."

"Why not? It's so cute." Still sipping from her glass, Amanda has returned to lying on Rachel's bed.

"Jesse bought that for me. If I wear it, he'll think I kept it because I'm still in love with him or something."

"Why did you keep it, then?"

"Because it's cute and it was expensive and I never thought I'd see him again, so it wouldn't matter!" Angrily, she searches through her jewelry box for another necklace, her fingers stopping on something gold with a nameplate buried at the bottom. "This. I'm wearing this." Hurriedly, she fastens the clasp.

Amanda raises an eyebrow. "Why do you still have _that_?"

"I really don't know, but it'll serve its purpose tonight." She runs her fingers along the thin cursive script that reads FINN. "Once Jesse sees me wearing _this_, he'll back off for sure."

Amanda sighs and shakes her head. "You're playing with fire, not telling Jesse the truth about Finn."

"Stop telling me that." Rachel grabs her abandoned wineglass and swallows the rest of the deep red liquid, ignoring Amanda's disapproving stare behind her back. "What time is it?"

"Six thirty. Where does Jesse live again?"

"He gave me the address at rehearsal – it's not far." Rachel picks up her eyeliner and starts to paint on a thin line around her lashes.

"Do you have money for a cab?"

"Yes, _Mom_." Amanda rolls her eyes, as Rachel applies a coat of mascara.

After slicking on some lip gloss, Rachel runs her fingers through her hair a couple times, then grabs her new black belted peacoat off the back of her desk chair. "Have fun!" Amanda yells semi-sarcastically, as she heads through the rest of the tiny apartment to the front door. "Don't stay out too late!"

The biting cold wind hits her like a slap in the face the second she steps outside. Rachel shivers as she searches through her purse for the money for a cab. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on what point of view you look at it from), it's not _too_ busy (for New York), so it doesn't take long for her to hail one. As she settles down in the semi-warm backseat, for the first time that night it hits her what she's about to do.

Rachel doesn't necessarily consider herself a _non_-religious person – she observes all the holidays and had her bat mitzvah when she was thirteen and goes to synagogue when she can. Still, it's been a long time since she's really, truly prayed – outside of prayers for holidays and such – and it feels sort of cheap to be doing it now. But at this point, she doesn't see many other options besides prayer.

_God, if you're listening – I'm sorry it's come to this, that I'm only praying to you now because I need something, but if you can grant me this one little thing, I promise I will pray regularly like I should have been doing all along. _Please_ let me survive the next few hours with my Satan-spawn of an ex. Please?_

_

* * *

_

Rachel doesn't quite know what she'd expected out of Jesse's apartment. She'd never seen his house during the short few months they'd dated in high school, or even his uncle's condo. Given that he went to Carmel and graduated from UCLA, she knew his family had to be pretty well off, but what counted as rich in Ohio was quite another thing entirely in New York.

Whatever her expectations were, though, they were definitely not _this_.

"You're here," is the first thing he says when he opens the door, stammering like an idiot. It makes her feel better, knowing that she's not the only one who's nervous about this. Taking off her coat, she cautiously steps into the apartment, barely able to keep her mouth closed as she takes it all in.

Jesse lives on Spring Street in Soho, which is a very nice neighborhood, and _expensive_. The one-bedroom apartment would've been on the small side for anywhere else, but for New York, it was incredibly spacious. He has a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen area with reasonably-well-cared-for-looking appliances, dining nook with a little table and chairs, and small living room-looking space with a couch, armchair, and coffee table. There's another door, next to the bathroom, that's closed; she wonders what on Earth could be behind it.

The color scheme is very Jesse – lots of black and gray, leather furniture, chrome tables, silver lighting fixtures. There are a few silver-framed photographs on the walls, and a beautiful painting of a New York City skyline hanging next to a cool clock (that looks almost more like a piece of artwork than a timepiece) in the dining nook, but other than that, the décor is pretty much nonexistent. It's undoubtedly a gorgeous place, but doesn't feel very lived-in. That fact doesn't surprise her all that much, considering it's _Jesse_ they're talking about.

"Are you hungry? I ordered in. New York City Chinese is notoriously crap, but I found a good place that does takeout not far from here." Rachel thinks she likes this new version of him – nervous, fumbling, a bit like a puppy dog waiting for a treat. At the very least, it's easier to deal with than his normal suave, cocky, arrogant persona.

She's tempted to reject his offer of food, just to watch him try and recover, but a tiny rumble in her stomach reminds her that she hasn't ingested anything other than wine since lunchtime. Something to soak up all that alcohol before singing would be a good idea. So she nods and lets him 'show her' to the dining room.

Plates are already set out, with slices of meat and some noodles on one and a vegetable dish over rice on the other. He motions her towards the one with the vegetables and rice, and she's surprised to see her favorite tofu and vegetable stir-fry dish from high school.

_He's got some memory,_ she thinks, delicately spearing a piece of carrot. _First the coffee, now this. Does he think bringing me back down Memory Lane will somehow make me forget all the crap he did to me?_

Regardless, she's hungry and there's food, so she tucks in, a little less vigorously than she might've if it were one of her girlfriends she was eating with. He returns from the kitchen with a brown bottle in one hand and a can of orange soda in the other, placing the soda in front of her. As much as she would kill for a beer right now, she resists the urge to ask for one, remembering the wine, and sips the soda gratefully.

They eat in silence for several moments, the delicate clink of the silverware the only sound in the quiet room. Finally, Jesse sets down his beer and looks at her across the table. "This is ridiculous," he declares.

"What is?" She plays dumb, trying to see just how far he's willing to take this.

"We dated back in high school. That was _seven years_ ago. Regardless of anything else, it's ridiculous that we can't be in the same room and make polite conversation. We've both grown up since then; I don't think it's unreasonable to expect us to act like adults about this. Especially considering we'll be working together quite closely for the next year."

Feeling like he's turned the tables on her, she bites her tongue, then, after a moment, responds. "I see your point. It would be rather difficult to maintain a professional working relationship if we're incapable of even making small talk."

"So then, continuing along that path, how was your day?" He swallows a bite of his steak, a whisper of a smirk on his lips, like he's celebrating a victory.

They make mindless small talk for a while, as the food slowly disappears. Finally, after Jesse returns from the kitchen with a plate of sliced oranges and fortune cookies – Rachel never letting on her surprise and delight that he's remembered another one of her favorite things from high school – he brings up the real reason she's there tonight: the music.

"As with any Broadway show, there's quite a bit of music. _Hello, I Love You_ is odd in that there are relatively few ensemble songs; most of them are duets or solos. That, of course, cuts down rehearsals significantly without the extra time of needing to practice with the entire ensemble cast, but it also means puts more pressure on the shoulders of the main characters, for they are _truly_ running the show. There's going to be a lot of work involved in the next several months, and I wouldn't be surprised if this sort of thing becomes regular." She nods, not truly processing his words until he's already off and running again. "You've read through the script, right? Gotten a feel for the characters? While I get first billing on the Playbill, your character Chloe is the real heart of the play. The story is all about her – her struggles and triumphs, love and loss; every emotion she goes through is central to the story. And, of course, you have twice as many duets to sing, since the story revolves around the love triangle." She can swear his lips purse slightly here, but they return to normal before she can be sure of anything.

He stands up and turns towards the doors. "Where are you going?"

"You didn't honestly think we were going to rehearse without a piano, did you?" Wordlessly, she follows him towards the third, closed door, which opens to reveal a tiny room barely bigger than the dining nook. Unlike the rest of the apartment, it's plain and unfurnished – white walls, hardwood floors, no real décor. This room isn't for socializing or living, she quickly realizes, taking in the stacks of CDs, the bookshelf full of piano books and lyrics, and the keyboard pressed up against the far wall; this is Jesse's rehearsal space.

He walks over to the keyboard and sits down at the black folding chair. There's space on top of the keyboard to hold music, and already papers are strewn across it, which he gathers up and holds out to her. "I thought we'd start with Chloe and Brandon's second duet from the first act. No need to bother working on _Hello_, after all." He flashes her that signature St. James cocky grin, and she resists the urge to roll her eyes, staring down at the music instead. Her heart leaps as her eyes scan the lyrics quickly.

Though they've only got the vocal score, he starts out with the piano accompaniment, his fingers flying across the keys swiftly and surely. She waits the requisite five measures as he plays, before coming in at her cue.

_Picture perfect memories_

_Scattered all around the floor_

_Reaching for the phone 'cuz_

_I can't fight it anymore_

"_And I wonder if I ever cross your mind_." Her voice wavers slightly as the sound of his harmony meets her ears. It's truly amazing, how well their voices fit together, and after so much time…

"_For me it happens all the time_."

_It's a quarter after one_

_I'm all alone and I need you now_

_Said I wouldn't call_

_But I lost all control and I need you now_

_And I don't know how I can do without…_

_I just need you now_

_Another shot of whiskey_

_Can't stop looking at the door_

_Wishing you'd come sweeping in_

_The way you did before_

_And I wonder if I ever cross your mind_

_For me it happens all the time_

_It's a quarter after one_

_I'm a little drunk and I need you now_

_Said I wouldn't call_

_But I lost all control and I need you now_

_And I don't know how I can do without…_

_I just need you now_

_Yes I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all…_

_It's a quarter after one_

_I'm all alone and I need you now_

_And I said I wouldn't call_

_But I'm a little drunk and I need you now_

_And I don't know how I can do without…_

_I just need you now…_

_I just need you now…_

"_Oh baby, I need you now_."

There's a stillness in the room as the final piano note resonates; neither of them dares to so much as breathe. Rachel looks down to find that her hands have unconsciously migrated over to Jesse's, resting on the piano keys, their fingertips millimeters from touching.

"Rachel…"

The spell broken, Rachel yanks her hands back and holds them against her chest, cheeks burning. Grabbing the first pile of papers she sees off the keyboard, she quickly turns around and exits the room, moving quickly through his apartment to the door. She only stops to grab her coat off an armchair, then runs out the door.

"Rachel, wait!"

The door slams shut with a loud _bang_! Jesse stares at it through the open door of the music room, mentally kicking himself for scaring her off like that.

Outside, Rachel struggles into her coat, heart pounding wildly. The wind is biting cold and icy, whipping through her hair and causing the fabric of her jeans to stick to her skin, but she barely feels a thing.

All she can feel is their hands on the keyboard, so close to touching. And how, for a moment, she'd wanted him to touch her; wanted it so badly that every cell in her body was _screaming_ for it to happen already. Touch her, and kiss her, and lay her down on the bed in the next room, and…

Rachel shivers in the cold, banishing those thoughts from her mind. They hadn't; he didn't. And thank God for that.

(If only she could convince herself that she believes that.)

* * *

**Author's Note: So? Thoughts?**

**I _swear_, I had "Need You Now" picked out for Hello, I Love You (the show) before they covered it on Glee. (While I'm bringing that up - Lea Michele was amazing, of course, but Mark Salling was so not the right choice for her partner. *Cough cough* Jonathan Groff would've been so so much better... *cough cough*)**

**A few things: vocal score, for those of you who don't know, is music written out with just the vocal parts, no piano or any instrumental accompaniment. I know for a fact that they use this on Broadway, because we rented a bunch of Broadway music for our winter concert and a lot of it came as vocal score.**

**Amanda (how do you all like her so far?) looks like Selena Gomez.**

**And, finally, I highly suggest that you look up the piano version of "Need You Now". It's absolutely beautiful and kind of chilling. (And imagine Jonathan Groff playing it...)**

**Reviews are very very much appreciated, of course. I only ask that you please refrain from mentioning _anything_ relating to tonight's episode, as I have not seen it yet. (This only applies to people reviewing between Tuesday night March 15th and Thursday morning March 17th. By then, I will have seen it, so you can reference it all you want.)**

**No promises on when the next chapter will be up, but it should be soon. I'm finally getting back into the swing of things (in case you all hadn't noticed, I've been in a bit of a slump as far as updates for a while...), so expect less of a waiting time than last time.**

**Kisses!**

**- Authoress**


End file.
